Alibis
by mellifluously
Summary: Seth's running away from something. The Cullens take him in without much question but the vampires are curious as to what happened to the boy. Seth is human. Partial Ed/Seth slash. Gang reference/violence. Drug dealing/use. Violence. Cursing. Lemons.
1. Running

I'm running. My hands hurt and my wrists burn but I'm running. The wind is playing with my hair and I'm racing the moon across the damp ground and my feet are starting to grow numb from the cold dew on the grass. When I finally stop, I don't know where I am. I'm in the woods; I'm far from home. My breath is uneven and I can see the cloud of mist that billows out of my mouth with every shallow breath.

"I need a smoke," I mumble to myself, lacing my fingers and resting my hands on my head. It takes minutes until my breathing is normal again; I haven't run this long and this fast in a long time.

"Seth?" My ears prick up at the sound of my name being called through the silent air. I curse softly and start running again; I can't let them find me. I just can't.

My feet pound against the pine needles and grass and twigs but I don't feel a thing. My feet are numb and rough and everything breaks under my feet.

"Seth!" More voices are calling now.

They're looking for me.

I keep running, through the woods, across a few driveways, and through more woods. I skid to a stop when I see the familiar, wooden sign.

_You are now leaving La Push Quileute Indian Reserve._

I blink once before taking off again, down the road but I don't know where I'm going. I run through another patch of woods until I reach a huge, spacious house. I know exactly where I am.

"Edward!" I shout involuntarily. I have no clue what I'm doing, but he's the only one I trust. Within seconds, the bronze haired vampire is only a few feet away from me.

"Seth," he says. His topaz eyes burn into me as I stand there, lanky and soaked to the bone. My hair is clinging to my forehead and my shirt is too; the navy sleeves stick to my arms and the white torso has become nearly transparent. My shorts, denim and worn have withstood the wet and cold. They are damp, at the most.

"I screwed up, Edward." I murmur. My shoulders are shaking but I know I'm not shivering. I'm upset. I'm scared. My lip starts to tremble and I wish he would stop looking at me the way he is.

"I know." He says calmly. I know he's mad. I can tell he's mad. His eyes are furious. He's mad.

"Wh-what should I do?" I ask. I need guidance. Don't just stand there, Edward; tell me what to do.

"I don't know, Seth." He says and takes a small step towards me. His hair is now growing darker with water and his sweater is growing darker around his shoulders. He runs his pale fingers through his hair and gestures for me to come closer with the other.

"Come on, let's get you inside." Edward says, putting a cool hand on my shoulder and leading me into the house. The entire Cullen family is staring at me when I come inside. Rosalie tilts her head to the side and gives me a sad look. It's the first time I've seen her so caring and sympathetic. Emmett is leaning against the wall behind the beige couch, dark shirt and jeans contrasting with his pale skin. He stares back at me for a moment before curtly turning his gaze to look out the large windows that cover the opposite wall. I hang my head and don't even attempt to look at Jasper or Alice or Esme or Carlisle.

Edward gently squeezes my shoulder, hearing my thoughts, and leads me through the living room and upstairs.

"You can borrow some of my clothes," he tells me when we walk into his room, "I'm sure they will fit."

I nod and his hand leaves my shoulder as he walks over to his dresser. He pulls out a pair of jeans, a v-neck sweater and a plain white shirt.

"I'll be back in a few minutes. I have to talk to my family." He attempts a smile before leaving me to myself so I can change. I sigh and pull off my wet t-shirt. It slaps the hardwood floor when I drop it and I shiver. I pull on the white shirt and the sweater; the fabric is warm and smells good. I unbutton my shorts and let them fall before pulling on Edward's jeans. The hem of the jeans catches on the heels of my feet and I notice the sleeves of the sweater are past my hands and not on my wrists.

I'm warmer now. I shake my head and spray water off my hair. I comb it down with my fingers and attempt to fold up my wet clothes. My feet are still numb as I walk down the hall and to the top of the staircase. I hold the clothes with one hand and stare down at the Cullen's as Edward talks to them. I block out most of the words and hear my name pop into the conversation more than once.

"He's a child, Emmett." Rosalie says sternly, "We can't just send him away."

"I'm aware, Rose." Emmett says back, "But he can't stay here."

My shoulders start to shake again and the wet clothes drop from my hand. They hit the first stair with a noticeable thump and everyone immediately looks to me. I suddenly feel like a small child, caught staying up after bedtime and I bite down on my lip.

Rosalie stands up and walks gracefully across the room and up the stairs.

"You can stay with us for a while, Seth," she says kindly.

"But—" I start, knowing that not everyone in the family wants me to stay.

"No buts," she hushes me, "you're staying and that's that."

I nod and let her lead me from the staircase and down the hall to another room. It's right next to Edward's, if I remember correctly.

"You can stay here," Rosalie says, "it's actually the spare room for Bella but I doubt she'll mind bunking with Edward whenever she comes over."

I nod and take in the room as Rosalie opens the door. There's a bed pressed up against the far wall. There's a crevice in the middle of the wall parallel to the door, a glass wall at the end of the crevice and there's a window seat. A large TV hangs on the wall across from the bed and the rest of the wall around it is covered with bookcases. A stereo sits on the dresser and the room feels so different from my bedroom back home.

Rosalie smiles at me, "I can change the sheets so they aren't pink. Just give me a moment."

In a matter of minutes the pink sheets have been changed to dark grey sheets and a plaid comforter is over them. Rosalie smiles at me again and tells me to lie down and go to sleep. She says that she and Edward will figure this out and that I shouldn't worry. She pulls the sheets over me and turns off the lights before she leaves. The bed is warm and I relish in the soft mattress and pillows and flannel sheets. I fall asleep quickly and before my thoughts can get to me.

I wake up not long after; the digital clock on the desk next to the dresser reads 11:34 p.m. I don't feel like getting up but I can barely hear Edward's voice downstairs. It's soft and hushed, but not too quiet. I hear Rosalie join into the conversation and they're both trying to convince someone to let me stay. My feet are still cold and I slide out of the bed. My feet hit the cold wood floor and I shiver.

I inch over to the dresser and pull open one of the drawers; I note that it's full of jeans, and another has sweaters like the one I'm wearing, and the rest have t-shirts and shorts. All the clothes are men's clothes and the top drawer has boxers and socks. I pull on a pair of thick, black socks and close the drawer. I don't know when or who replaced the clothes.

My shoulder is sore and I reach up and brush my fingers over the burning cut. I wince and draw back quickly; it's more than just painful.

I walk out of the room and down the hall and stand at the top of the staircase again. Now, no one is at the bottom or in the living room. Tentatively, I start down the stairs and look around the dark room. I tiptoe across the living room and plot down on the beige couch.

"Seth." I jump at the voice and nearly fall off the sofa.

Alice is standing at the foot of the stairs and Jasper is walking down them.

"We heard you come down. Are you okay?" Alice's voice is soft as she walks across the room and over to the couch. She sits on the edge of the cushion, careful not to touch me. I nod in response to her question and sit up.

"I couldn't sleep," I said, feeling like a child again.

Alice smiled warmly, "It's almost midnight. Want to watch a movie?"

I shrug and don't specify my answer.

"Jazz, can you pick out a movie?" Alice asks the other vampire, taking my shrug as a yes.

He nods and walks over to the DVD cabinet, pulling the door open without a sound and tracing his index finger along the spines of the movies.

"What genre, Alice?" Jasper questions without looking at the two of us.

"I'm in the mood for a comedy. What about you Seth?" Alice says, looking straight at me.

"Comedy's fine." I say meekly, intimidated by her for unknown reasons.

"Comedy it is," Jasper says quietly. He skims over a few more DVDs before sliding one out of the uniform line. He shows the cover to Alice for approval and pops it into the DVD player. I lean back on the soft cushion and watch the previews of other movies—some straight-to-DVD, low budget flicks, others cinema knock outs—until the title screen comes up.

I fall asleep again sometime between the thirty and forty minute benchmark. I'm tired again; I don't know why, but I'm starting to think that all the running has drained my energy and the lack of sleep isn't helping. Even in my slumber, I can barely feel myself being lifted up and carried upstairs to the room.

I can't bring myself to call it _my_ room because, technically, it isn't. As far as I know, there's at least one person who doesn't want me here, and the room was originally mean for Bella.

Softness and warmth engulfs me as the person sets me onto the bed and pulls the covers over my skinny frame. I fall completely into dreamland and I can't feel anything from the real world anymore. Bright colors fill my vision and my dream becomes more vivid.

I can see people. Running, fighting, screaming. My arm hurts—it's burning and a warm, thick liquid is streaming down my skin. There's blood on the sidewalk. There's a person, a body. I force myself up and start to run.

I'm back in La Push and I'm cleaning my cut. I wrap a bandage around my shoulder and pull on the baseball tee and the jean shorts. I swallow past the lump in my throat and I stand up. The floor starts to break apart and I'm falling, plummeting down into nothingness.

I wake before I hit the ground. It's morning; half past seven.

My breath is shaky and the door opens.

"Seth, are you awake?" Edward's voice, quiet and calm, rings from the hall.

"Y-Yeah," I say, rubbing the tiredness from my eyes with the heels of my hands and sitting up.

"My family and I talked it over." Edward begins, "And we have decided that you're going to stay with us for as long as you need to."

I smile and thank him. I might be here for a while.

**-_-_-**

**New story.**

**Seth-centered and different. **

**Enjoy.**


	2. Safe

**I'm inspired. Enjoy another chapter :)**

**Oh, and by the way, DISCLAIMER = I don't own anything but the plot. Characters belong to Stephanie Meyer.**

**-_-_-**

I'm sitting at the kitchen counter and Esme is making me breakfast. She's smiling and talking to me. I'm forcing a fake smile and sitting on the comfortable barstool with the sleeves of Edward's sweater pulled over my hands and clenched in my fists. I'm not angry, I'm a nervous wreck. The food smells good; I haven't eaten in three days, and I'm practically salivating over the sweet aroma of breakfast.

Rosalie walks in with her blonde hair pulled back and she smiles a kind, motherly smile at me. I try to smile back and she walks over. She combs her fingers through my messy, shaggy hair and I don't mind at all. I haven't felt so safe in a long time; Rosalie reminds me of my mother before she started drinking. I lean my head onto Rosalie's shoulder and she doesn't object.

My eyes close and Rosalie keeps smoothing my hair with her cold fingers and I note how nice she smells. I open my eyes when I hear the stovetop burner turn off with a _click_ and Esme places a plate of food in front of me.

"Thank you," I say quietly, lifting my head from Rosalie's shoulder.

"It's no problem at all, dear." Esme says brightly, cleaning the skillet and putting it up on the pot rack.

I eat quickly and Esme takes my plate when I stand up to take it to the sink. I blink stupidly for a few seconds; I'm not used to somebody taking care of little things like washing my dishes. Even when I was a child, I had to put my own plate in the sink or dishwasher and sometimes even wash it myself.

I look out the sliding glass door that leads to the patio and see that the sun is out and it may actually be warm out. I pull off my socks and walk outside.

It smells thickly of mist and rain and it's warm out. I push the sleeves of the sweater up to my elbows and ignore the dark lines on my dark skin. I honestly don't know how the Cullens aren't noticing how I smell like blood and I don't know how they're all controlling themselves so easily. Maybe my blood's not attractive. Or maybe it's not fresh blood and it doesn't send them into a frenzy.

I jump when someone opens and closes the door. I can't tell who it is just by their footsteps as I would be able to if it was someone from La Push.

"Seth," it's Alice, "I know what you did to yourself."

She gestures to the cuts on my arms and looks up at me sadly.

"I just don't know why."

"I got myself into a huge mess, Alice." I say, staring up at the tops of the evergreen trees, "and it just sort of… happened."

Alice nods and she sits on one of the lawn chairs. Her skin sparkles where the sunlight hits it and I feel out of place with my dark, dull skin. I sit down on the edge of the deck and look down at the grass. It's vibrant and green and I wonder if they're still looking for me.

I wonder if Mom even knows I'm gone. Does Dad even care? I'm sure Leah is the only one in my family that actually gives a damn about me.

And then there's Sam, her boyfriend; he's kind of like a big brother to me. He's always looking out for me, it seems. Jake, Quil, and Embry are like brothers too. They get annoyed with me a lot, especially when I want to hang out with them. I sigh, wishing that I was just a little older, so I'd fit in. I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around my legs.

I see Alice walk over and sit next to me.

"Seth, what happened to you?" She asks carefully.

I shake my head and mumble, "I don't wanna talk about it."

"Please, Seth?" She pleads.

I shake my head again.

"Would you tell Edward or Rosalie?" She asks.

I shrug.

She's quiet for a while but speaks again, and of something completely different, "Carlisle is at work now. He wants you to come to the hospital today so he can examine your cuts."

I look at her and silently ask how he knows about them.

"I told him, Seth," Alice tells me, "and he could smell the blood on you."

I nod.

"Oh, and Seth," she says, "you do know that you're not supposed to know what we are, right?"

I nod again and say, "It was an accident that I found out."

"Yes, but it was necessary." She muses, "If he hadn't done something, it's more than likely that you would be dead now."

The thought is bittersweet. I had almost been killed by a vampire, but I had been saved. Sometimes I wonder if I would have been better off if he hadn't saved me.

"I know." I whisper, "But maybe he shouldn't have done anything."

"How can you say that, Seth?" Alice asks, "You have your whole life ahead of you. You're barely fifteen."

"I know, Alice." I say quietly, "But sometimes I don't like life. Sometimes I just want to sleep and not wake up."

Alice sighs, "Everybody feels that way at times. Even I do."

I rest my chin on my knees and look away from her.

"Where's Edward?" I question.

"Hunting," Alice answers bluntly, "with Emmett and Jasper."

I nod and sigh. Rosalie, Esme, Alice, and I are the only people in the huge house. I can't bring myself to call it home—I don't belong here.

"Bella's coming over later," Alice tells me, "she might get here before Edward and the boys get home."

Alice stands up and so do I. The clouds have muffled the sun's bright light and Alice's skin isn't shimmering anymore. She leads me into the house and I stare at a painting above the mantle. She sits on the beige sofa but I still stand, looking at the painting. It's dark and rather disturbing; a pair of blood red eyes stare me down and splatters of the same red cover the canvas. The rest of the painting is swirls of blacks and grays that seem to morph together into a shape.

"Seth?" I jump at Alice's voice and look at her, blinking rapidly and confusedly.

"You okay?" She inquires quietly.

"Y-Yeah," I say, "I'm fine."

She gives me a doubtful look. I know I'm indeed not fine, or any variation of okay, but I say I'm fine. I'm so used to putting up a mask to prevent anyone from seeing what's really going on in my head.

Part of me is so afraid of Edward and Jasper because they can hear my true thoughts and feel my true feelings. They see through fake smiles and forced laughs. They can pick out a lie the second I tell it and they can tell me they don't believe me and actually prove me wrong.

I sit down on the couch, next to Alice, and look down at my jeans. They're actually the pair I had borrowed from Edward.

"Alice," I whisper.

"Yes, Seth?" She asks.

"I'm scared." I murmur, "I'm terrified, actually."

"Of what?" She murmurs back.

"I can't… tell you." I choke out painfully. I can't tell her. I should, but I can't.

"Please just tell me Seth." She says, "I won't judge you. You know I won't."

I shake my head.

"I'm sorry." I say, "I can't."

She nods and I lean back into the back cushion of the couch. I want desperately for her to just reach out and touch me, no matter how small of a touch, but I want to know that I'm tangible and alive and awake. I want to be held and for someone to smooth my hair and tell me everything's going to be okay. I need reassurance but I know I can't expect it if I don't tell anyone why I need reassurance.

I turn my face and nuzzle into the soft fabric. It smells nice, as all the Cullens do, and is surprisingly warm.

I don't react when a cool hand touches my forehead. I can tell it's Rosalie by the smooth fingertips and skinny fingers. I let my eyes flutter closed and breathe deeply.

"Are you tired?" Rosalie asks me.

I nod and she gently picks me off the couch. I'm surprised by her strength, though I shouldn't be. It isn't too awkward, being carried by Rosalie. We're about the same height, give or take an inch or two, but I'm sure I'm thinner with lanky limbs and a stomach with barely any depth to it.

She sets me on my bed and I can feel her smiling at me. She pulls the covers over my body and gently smoothes my hair against my forehead. I open my eyes for a moment, and Rosalie's smiling at me and looking happier and kinder than I've ever seen her.

"Good night," she tells me.

"Good night Rosalie." I say back.

She turns the lights off when she leaves and pulls the curtains closed for me. In the dim darkness, I fall asleep quickly. I feel safe here. Safer than at home; more comfortable than at home.

I know I have Mom and Leah back home, in La Push, but maybe I need to stay here for a while and just be loved and feel safe and comfortable. The cocoon of blankets keeps me warm as I fall deeper into slumber and further out of consciousness.

Sleep beckons to me, telling me to drop my barriers and give in. I do.

My sleep is dreamless. I wake after the sun has gone down and my legs are stiff from sleeping in jeans for a second night. I stand up and stretch; I decide to take a shower and stumble over to my dresser. I pull out a long sleeved t-shirt and a clean pair of boxers and socks. I pull out a pair of jeans, noticing that they are skinny jeans, and walk across the room and to the door that I guessed led to a bathroom.

The bathroom is a complete blue color; the walls are a combination of baby blue and darker tiles, and the towels are plush and the same color as the tiles. The sink is porcelain white and the faucet is stainless steel.

I put my clothes on the counter of the sink and close and lock the door. I start the water and pull off Edward's sweater. It still smells like him and has retained my body heat. I fold it up and set it on the counter next to my clean clothes. I pull off the undershirt and my jeans before staring at the bloodied bandage on my shoulder. I unravel the white-and-red gauze and wince as it yanks at the tender scab on the deep cut. No blood erupts from the cut and I toss the used bandage into the garbage bin.

I trace the thinner lines on my wrists and sigh. I ignore the scabs and climb into the shower. Hot water and steam envelopes me and I scrub every bit of the past few days from my body. I wash my hair twice with whatever store-bought shampoo is in the shower already and I wash down with the body wash.

I stand in the beat of the water for a moment, finding ecstasy in the heat and I can't bring myself to turn the water off. Eventually, I do and coldness envelopes me just as the warmth had minutes before. I pull one of the dark, plush towels off the rack and I dry my skin. I rub the excess water from my hair and pull on the clean pants. I bend down and open the cabinet under the counter and dig out a roll of gauze. I wrap my shoulder with the pale white bandage and tuck the end under the bottom of the bandage. I pull the t-shirt on with ease and push the sleeves up to my elbows.

The red t-shirt clings to my thin torso and the jeans hang baggy against my hips and ankles; they're a bit too big but it doesn't matter much. I rub my eyes and shake more of the water out of my hair. I hang the towel up again and carry the dirty clothes into the room. I set them on the floor at the foot of my bed and stand up.

I walk out of the room and back downstairs. Rosalie smiles at me from a beige loveseat—it matches the color of the sofa, and wasn't there before.

"Hi Rosalie," I say quietly.

"Hello Seth," she says.

I sit down close to the arm of the sofa and notice that Bella is here along with Alice.

"Hi Alice, Bella," I say, forcing my voice louder than when I spoke to Rosalie.

"It's been a while, Seth." Bella says pleasantly.

I force a smile and nod. I wonder if Edward and the others are back yet. Bella and Alice go back to what they were talking about before I entered the room and I lean back, relaxing my muscles and focusing on the reality show playing on the television.

**-_-_-**

**Well, I hope you're liking this so far.**

**I would really love some feedback on it. **

**HINT HINT.**


	3. Cry

**Thank you OECD and ChAoS MiZoRe for reviewing!**

**I'm pretty sure I'm falling in love with this story. **

**Seth is fun to write—he's one of my favorite characters.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own ****Twilight**** or its characters. I simply own this plot and my own writings. All else belongs to Stephanie Meyer.**

**-_-_-**

Carlisle decided that he would examine me at the house, rather than having me driven to the hospital and having to wait. He gets home at half-past six and smiles at me after he puts his coat back into the closet. I attempt a smile back and grip my arms.

"Why don't we go ahead with this, Seth?" Carlisle suggests, picking his briefcase up again and walking towards me. I nod and follow him upstairs and into a room on the opposite side of the hall from the bedrooms. The room is like a makeshift hospital room—there are IV poles, a heart monitor, and even what looks like an x-ray and ultrasound. I don't know whether to be surprised by the medical equipment or not fazed at all.

Carlisle asks me to take off my t-shirt so he can get a better look at my cuts. I pull the shirt off with ease, my shoulder barely hurting me as I set the crumpled shirt next to my legs. Carlisle's eyes narrow and he purses his lips as he traces the scabbing cuts with his cold fingertips.

"They aren't too bad," Carlisle says, closely examining the thin lines, "consider yourself lucky, Seth. It could be a lot worse."

I nod and stare down at the fabric of my jeans. Carlisle rubs an anti-biotic on my wrists and wraps thin gauze around them.

"Now what happened here?" He questions, gesturing at the bandage on my shoulder. I press my lips together and suck my teeth. I don't want to talk about it.

"You can tell me Seth," he assures me, trying to meet my gaze. I let out a shaky sigh and shake my head. "You can tell when you're ready."

I smile a little and whisper a thank you. Carlisle smears more of the anti-biotic cream on the gash on my shoulder and rewraps it. I pull my t-shirt back on once he's finished and I thank him for being so kind.

"Anytime, Seth," he says. I nod and a knock sounds from the door.

"Carlisle?" Edward's voice rings out quietly.

"It's open, Edward." Carlisle calls to him. The door pushes open and Edward walks in casually.

"I need to talk to you, Seth." He says, looking pointedly at me. My heart speeds up a bit and I feel a twinge of fear mask its way into my mind. Edward smiles, assuring me that it's okay, and leads me out of the makeshift hospital room. His cool hand never leaves the dip between my shoulder blades as we walk downstairs and out into the wooded area behind the house.

"Your sister called me today." Edward states carefully. I don't respond, and he continues, "She's worried. The wolves are looking for you and the Elders are setting up a search party. Your mother's having a breakdown and Leah says even your father is worried."

My lip trembles at the sound of all the people worried about me. Worthless little Seth Clearwater has gone missing and suddenly everyone needs to find him.

I scoff a loud, bark of a laugh and Edward raises an eyebrow.

"My _father_ is worried about me?" I repeat, and I can hear my voice sound different. Desperate. "He's never been worried about me in years! And my mother? She's an alcoholic and has those little breakdowns at least once a week!"

"Seth," Edward murmurs, touching my shoulders. I flinch away and back up a few steps.

"I'm not done," I growl. Edward nods, giving me way to continue. He knows I've been suppressing all of this for years now.

"No one in La Push really cares." I shout, "Leah cares and Sam cares but that's _it_! Jacob and Quil and Embry are too cool to hang out with me, even if I'm only a year younger! I don't have _anyone_, Edward!"

My voice echoes through the otherwise silent forest and I can hear my labored, shallow breathing.

Before Edward can speak, I'm yelling again, "And I don't even fit in with any of the kids my age at the Rez! They're all wolves, but I'm not! I'm just a human and I'm worthless!"

Edward looks like he wants to shake all those thoughts out of my brain or slap me for saying such a thing.

"You are _not_ worthless, Seth." He says softly, his tone contradicting with the look he had just given me, "You are far from it. Never forget how important you are to a lot of people."

"Like who?" I scoff.

"Rosalie, Alice, Jasper, Bella, Charlie, Esme, Carlisle," Edward lists, "Leah, Sam, and me."

I bite down on my lip and my knees tremble. I want to cling to someone or something and just cry or do something. I feel like I need to scream until my lungs collapse and I have nothing left in me to give. Hesitantly, Edward reaches out and pushes my bangs out of my eyes. I stare at him, wide eyed and tears starting to well up in my tear ducts.

Without thought and without warning, I fling my arms around Edward's torso and cling to him like a baby koala. He doesn't object to the sudden embrace and gently rubs the dip between my shoulder blades when I start to cry. It takes minutes before I stop crying but I don't let go of Edward. My cheeks are wet and my entire body is shaking with dry sobs.

I'm tired when I loosen my grip on Edward's middle and let my arms drop to my sides. He shows a small smile, trying to reassure me obviously, and pulls his hand away from my back. I sit down and lean against a tree and stare up at the sky.

The clouds are moving around and I can see patches of the ebony sky and the white sparkles of the stars. The brilliant white reminds me of the pale, sparkling vampire skin. I lick my chapped lips and pull my knees up to my chest. I hug my legs and look at Edward innocently. He's looking up at the sky as well and I'm wondering what he's thinking.

I fell asleep, curled up against the pine tree. But when I awake, I'm inside the house and it's morning. I rub my eyes and stretch my arms above my head and crack my knuckles. My stiff back gives out a painful pop and I walk across the room to the dresser. I'm not wearing my jeans anymore, but I do have my boxers and t-shirt on. I suppose that Edward thought I would be more comfortable without the denim.

I pull out a fresh pair of jeans and a white undershirt. I pick Edward's dark green sweater off the ground next to my bed and take a short, warm shower. Before pulling on the sweater, I breathe in the sweet scent and push it over my head. I put my arms through and walk downstairs, adjusting the hem to my liking and I hear Rosalie talking to someone as I reach the top of the staircase.

"…Poor child was so tired," Rosalie says quietly and motherly, "I feel horrible for the boy."

I assume she's talking about me.

"He's… upset most of the time." Jasper's voice surprises me. It's quiet and smooth in a different way than Edward's. I can pick out a slight accent and, much like Edward and Rosalie's voices, it soothes me. "I can feel his pain."

"He's so young, Jasper." Rosalie murmurs, "Whatever he went through must have been terrible."

I walk down the stairs, not wanting to hear anymore, and Rosalie and Jasper greet me as if they weren't just talking about me moments before. My head tilts to the side and I whisper a small hello back. My stomach suddenly feels as if someone is prodding it with a dagger and I step off the bottom stair and onto the soft carpet.

"I'm… I'm going to go for a walk," I say quietly. Rosalie and Jasper nod and watch me walk out of the room and out of the house. I stumble down the front stairs and walk across the yard and into the forest. I ignore the cold dew that seeps between my toes and I take a deep, slow breath.

The dagger prodding at my stomach goes away eventually and I find myself somewhere in the middle of the woods, perched atop a large, mossy rock. I twiddle a piece of grass between my fingers and blow it out of my light grip and into the wind. I sigh loudly and lean back onto the heels of my palms.

The forest air is light and moist; a scent I'm more than used to.

My mind drifts from simple thoughts of the air and the forest and to thoughts of La Push and my parents. A sudden feeling of anger bubbles in my gut at the thought of my father. The man who hated my very existence and lacked the common knowledge of decency and how to treat a woman right. My mother, the woman who gave me life, turned dependent on alcohol in her denial of an abusive husband and her family falling apart. I couldn't stand to even think of them anymore. It hurt me. They hurt me. They hurt Leah. I can't take it anymore.

I breathe shakily and pull at the moss beneath my fingers.

My ribs ache and my muscles tense as I remember countless beatings; kicks to my sides, slaps to the face. Every fiber of my being remembers every hit and relives the pain. I can see my mother, turning a blind eye to my quiet sobs and my father's ferocious yelling, twisting off the top to her vodka bottle and taking a large gulp. I squeeze my eyes shut and bite down on my lip. A small whimper slips through the crack in my mask and I dig my nails into the rock.

"God dammit!" I shout, swinging my arms forward and slamming my fists into the rock. Tears slide down my cheeks and I rub them away.

I force away the thoughts of home, the thoughts of my family. Tears prick my eyes still, reminding me of how homesick I am; of how I don't belong with the Cullens. Of how I should just go home and go back to being stupid, worthless Seth instead of trying to make a point and make something of myself out of the ashes. I'm no phoenix.

As my brain sees I don't want to think about home, it drifts to the night I messed everything up. The night that the tiny sliver of gold I had was crushed and killed and left to rot on the street. The night that I screwed myself over. The night that he died.

My breath hitches in my throat as I remember him; bright eyes, dark hair and all.

"God dammit," I say again, my voice weaker and full of sorrow and sobs and tears. I rub the wetness of my cheeks roughly, "God fucking dammit."

I pound my fist into the rock again until I finally let myself cry and grip onto my jeans, tears staining the denim dark and leaving blotches on my shirt. I cry until my eyes run dry and my sniffles subside. I stay, gripping my jeans in my fists and curled up on the rock for a long time. I gently sway myself side to side, just as my mother did when I was young and couldn't sleep or wouldn't stop crying or had a bad dream.

I wish I could wake up and see that everything was just a dream and Mom will be in the next room and she'll rock me side to side until I calm down and fall asleep again, dreams sweet and without sorrow or despair.

I open my eyes and lift my head up, hoping to see my house, but sigh when nothing but thick vegetation meets my gaze.

"Seth," a voice calls behind me, "are you alright?"

"…Yes, Edward," I lie, "I'm fine."

I turn to meet his eye and I can see that he isn't convinced.

"It's been hours. Rosalie's worried." Edward says.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

"Don't be." He says. He walks across the forest floor, full of dirt and grime, with ease and gently helps me off my perch at the crest of the rock. He keeps one hand on my shoulder as he walks me back to the house. I can feel his touch is softer than usual; it's careful—hesitant, almost.

I know he heard my thoughts, but I don't think he knows how to handle my problems.

**-_-_-**

**Sorry this took a while.**

**I've been busy and sick. **

**Reviews = Love.**


	4. Voice

**Thank you ChAoS MiZoRe for reviewing**

**Alright, here is another chapter, my lovelies. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own ****Twilight**** or its characters; I only own this plot and my own writings.**

**-_-_-**

I sit on the soft bed in the room I've been sleeping in and trace the light pattern on the sheet with my eyes. Edward is standing just a few feet away, leaning against the wall, and I can feel his eyes on me. I don't let myself look up as he begins to speak.

"Seth," he begins, "I know you don't want to talk about whatever happened, but you have to. We want to help you."

I shake my head and say, "It's nothing, really."

"I know it is more than nothing, Seth." Edward states, "If it were nothing you wouldn't be here. If it were nothing your thoughts wouldn't be so troubled. If it were nothing you wouldn't have the lines on your wrists or the gash on your shoulder."

My eyes shoot up to meet his and I can feel the venom in my glare.

"You don't know anything," I snap, "so don't talk like you do."

"I know enough to say that something's bothering you." Edward protests.

I huff and cross my arms. The burn of my glare wears off and my shoulders slump. I feel suddenly calm and tired. I fight the urge to let my eyes close and try not to lean down into the soft blankets. Within minutes, my fighting is in vain and I'm drifting off to sleep unwillingly. I feel someone pull the blankets over me and I sigh softly.

I'm sick of sleeping; it makes me feel like I'm running away from all my problems, running from reality, rushing to my dreamland of a perfect life with no abuse, no pain, no sorrow.

I want to wake and realize that it was all just a dream; he's still alive, Dad isn't abusive, Mom is drinking tea, not booze, and Leah and Sam are planning their wedding, not a search party. But if I must sleep, I never want to wake again. I want to sleep forever in my perfect dreamland where Jason is alive, Dad is nice again, Mom is addicted to herbal tea and Leah and Sam will be getting married soon.

I almost laugh at my naïveté—I can't sleep forever, because if I do, I'll be dead. Gone from this world and making everyone else's lives so much easier without having to worry about little Seth Clearwater, the worthless runt of the pack. The one who doesn't fit in. The one who only fit with one person and the one who screwed himself over by ruining that gold person who made him feel right—feel welcomed and happy to be alive.

As my dreams blend together and fade to darkness, I know that I'm coming back to reality. My eyes slide open easily and I'm alone in the room. I tiptoe out of the room and downstairs and out into the cold night air. The moon is full and gives just enough dim light for me to find my way down the stairs and into the grass. I sit down and stare up at the sky. The stars gleam and shimmer against the pitch black sky and I sigh quietly.

I miss home, I miss La Push. I miss Leah, I miss Sam, I miss Jason.

I bring my thumb to my mouth and chew on the hangnail at the edge of my finger. I don't hear someone come out of the house until they're right next to me, staring down at me as I look up, past them, at the sky.

"Seth," it's Bella. She's nice, quiet, but nice.

"Bella," I mimic, forcing a small smile as I sit up. She sits cross legged next to me and glances over out of the corner of her eyes.

"They're all worried about you." She tells me, "I was talking to Jake yesterday. He says that Leah's a wreak and your mother is about ready to get my dad to make a state wide search for you."

I don't react to the words. I know it's unfair to Leah, because she didn't do anything wrong. She was just supposed to have her happily ever after with Sam and move up to Seattle, or something. She wasn't supposed to postpone the wedding and spend days—or has it been weeks?—searching for me, her stupid younger brother.

"Billy says that your dad… disappeared a while ago. Said something about going to find you." Bella continues when I don't answer. "But Jake… he said that that's the last thing you would want, for your father to find you."

I sigh shakily and knot my fingers into the damp grass.

"M-My father is the worst e-excuse for a p-parent." My voice trembles and breaks as I confess this.

"_Tell anyone and I'll beat you senseless, ya hear?"_

I wince at the bark of my father's gruff voice ringing in my skull. Bella's hands overlap one of mine and she feels warm. Maybe I'm cold; I don't know. My hands start to shake and Bella tightens her grip on my hand.

"Seth…" she sounds sad, but not as broken as I am.

I yank my hand out of her grasp and stand up, walking away as I say, "I-I just need some time to th-think."

I stumble past the Cullen's house and into the woods. I collapse somewhere under a tall, big tree and curl up on my side. I close my eyes and, if I listen hard enough, I can hear voices in the distance.

**-_-_-**

**Sorry it's so short.**

**The next chapter will be longer. **

**Any guesses as to who Jason is? **


End file.
